Currently reading/enjoying:
“Temple Dogs,” by Ira Sukrungruang in Pithead Chapel. A touching essay (it does a lot in few words).
Hibernaculum by Sarah E. Colona. More on this later.
Gregory Orr’s How Beautiful the Beloved. A book I am grateful for! Full of wisdom and little happy-making poems. You can find some of these poems over at VQR Online. Here’s one gem:
Human heart
Human heart —
That tender engine.
Love revs it;
Loss stalls it.
What can make it
Go again?
The poem, the poem.
***
Happy weekend to you, friends!
Friday, December 6, 2013
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Wintering Over
Wintering Over
To change direction as a bird
changes direction
to love the branch as the air
to devote oneself
to steering through mostly-invisible places
To change direction as a bird
changes direction
to love the branch as the air
to devote oneself
to steering through mostly-invisible places
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Is That the Museum
Is That the Museum
A child’s hood
will help them to learn
just a little of the world
at a time
The little girl in the blue snowsuit
being led from the bus
by her grandmother
Is that the museum
the little girl keeps asking
of every white building
A child’s hood
will help them to learn
just a little of the world
at a time
The little girl in the blue snowsuit
being led from the bus
by her grandmother
Is that the museum
the little girl keeps asking
of every white building
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
It Is Marvelous
It Is Marvelous
There are still fires
within the galaxy
How lovely the light is at dusk
We can say that
There is a shoulder
in the place on your body you have
been told is a shoulder
It is a real bone
You, beloved,
are a former child
For each year you continue living
something is cast off behind you
There are still fires
within the galaxy
How lovely the light is at dusk
We can say that
There is a shoulder
in the place on your body you have
been told is a shoulder
It is a real bone
You, beloved,
are a former child
For each year you continue living
something is cast off behind you
Monday, December 2, 2013
Northbound
Northbound
What we know, we know
because we are pointing south.
An accident on the northbound side
is not yet an accident
for those heading north.
The one unmoving lane of cars we pass
becomes two, three, a whole half
of the freeway not moving
or knowing as we do
of the side-sleeping truck, the ambulance.
We drive so far that we reach
where cars have only started to slow.
We drive so far that we see
what things were like before the accident.
It gets earlier and earlier.
Cars are driving past us as we drive.
Inside the cars, everyone is singing.
What we know, we know
because we are pointing south.
An accident on the northbound side
is not yet an accident
for those heading north.
The one unmoving lane of cars we pass
becomes two, three, a whole half
of the freeway not moving
or knowing as we do
of the side-sleeping truck, the ambulance.
We drive so far that we reach
where cars have only started to slow.
We drive so far that we see
what things were like before the accident.
It gets earlier and earlier.
Cars are driving past us as we drive.
Inside the cars, everyone is singing.
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